The Letter
by ShinigamiMailJeevas
Summary: Those words jump off the letter, that I found behind our bed, haunting me they echo in my head in my head... I've memorized it line for line too bad the letter isn't mine.... Matt/Mello. Now a Threeshot.
1. Part 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or music from Hoobastank

**AN:** LISTEN TO (The Letter by Hoobatank) FOR THIS PLEASE! I wrote this short two shot based on the song, and if you listen to the song you will easily see that. And its a great song. :)

But yeah...... I'm back with a new twoshot..... (was going to be a oneshot.... but it ate my brain for a bit longer than I thought it would and it didn't flow right if I smushed it all together)

**Suggested Listening**: The Letter **by** Hoobastank

**The Letter**

_~Part One~_

Matt yawned behind his gloved hand and continued on into the bedroom. He'd been up since six cleaning. It wasn't generally something he did but Mello had asked him to do so when he'd left yesterday, though the blonde wasn't expected back for another day or so.

And despite his lack of wanting to clean, even Matt had to admit the place had gotten bad. He had already taken out god knew how many bags of actual trash, plus the bag from when he'd cleaned out the refrigerator with the mutatated cartons of old Chinese food and moldy pizza.

And he didn't even want to think about the bathroom he'd just finished. That had just been nasty. Mello was cleaning it next time as it was his fault. Shower drains.... arg.

After that he figured he ought to do the bedroom, as the state of it consisted of tossed about clothing and dust bunnies the size of Great Britain. Never mind the trash can overflowing with chocolate wrappers cigarette butts and other kinds of wrappers....

He quickly tackled the last of the garbage, and did a load of wash and replaced what clean clothes he did find before going onto the dust problem. He figured the floor should be last as everything else would just drop the dust there anyway.

He sighed in irritation at the grey line of dust that sat on their headboard and ran the cloth over the length of it only to have it snag on something behind the wood and drop behind the bed.

"Damn it." he muttered softly. Shaking his head he moved from the bed and after a bit of finagling managed to pull the bed away from the wall, just far enough where he could get his arm around the side to get the cloth.

His fingers brushed against something as he reached for the cloth so he pulled it out into view. It was some sort of document that was paper clipped together. He rolled his eyes behind the orange goggles. Mello was always reading while in bed. The chocoholic must have dropped it during one of the times his research had been hastily flung from the bed....

It was probably more of the same stuff and he wasn't really about to read it as both he and Mello knew every scrap of data there was at that point; but something on the page caught his eye. He knew he had to have misread so he started from the beginning.

His eyes widened as he began to read.

He felt horrified and got a sick feeling in his gut; the words swam across his vision faster and faster and they seemed to echo in his mind as though they had been spoken aloud. Someone had written that letter to Mello.

Someone that wasn't him.

It was dated not too long ago, only a few days before, back around the time Mello had said that he would need to leave for a few days for some work. And now... all of the missed days and anniversaries spent alone began to make some sense.

Matt bit his lip as his vision fogged over; he pulled his goggles from his eyes and let them hang by his chest as the tears dripped to the page.

He read it over and over again. There was no mistaking anything, there could be no _denying _anything.... and it were almost as though Mello had wanted him to find it, as he hadn't hidden it very well, merely tossed it behind the bed instead of inside his safe that Matt had no access to.

He may as well left it on his goddamn dresser in plain view.

How many times had he been with this person? How many times had Matt willfully believed the blondes lies? Ignored the bruises and cuts on his lovers form and written it off as hazards of the job?

How many times had they _fucked_ after Mello had.....?

The letter, that four paged letter, said everything.

_'-meet me there at midnight, same place we always go-'_

He replaced the bed against the wall and gently placed the letter on top of the newly made bed.

_'-are you absolute sure he doesn't know?-'_

Matt knew that the blonde would be gone for at least another day, Mello had said so. He didn't need to worry about a confrontation. Deafly he picked up the abandoned cloth and continued to clean the bedroom. He needed to do something constructive before he fell apart.

_'-I hope that I can touch you again soon-'_

His fingers shook on their tenuous hold on the cloth. He would leave the apartment clean, as Mello had requested. Because he may as well finish that last order... He half wondered if Mello had hoped he'd find the letter so that he wouldn't have to tell this to his face. So that perhaps it wouldn't be real unless he actually said it? Could Mello be that stupid?

Matt laughed humorlessly.

He could.

He really could.

He finished the cleaning, making sure that everything was perfect and washed and dusted and simply _perfect_. And than he began to pack up everything. Everything that was his. And he tossed everything that had been _theirs_ into the trash.

He wouldn't take anything that was Mello's. He didn't want anything of his... he didn't want to be reminded anymore than he knew he would be every time he saw a flash of blonde hair or blue eyes or leather....

His chest ached though he doubted that it was Kira. He wasn't lucky enough to have his pain end, he thought bitterly.

He looked at the bed again and his face flushed in shame at his naivety. He loved that bastard, gave _everything_ to him, but it was never enough. Had never been. He half wished he hadn't found that letter.

Wished it has been his.....

He smiled at his neighbor, goggles over his eyes again, as he loaded his things into his car. It was rather depressing that it was mostly computer equipment. No photos, as that would have been dangerous, not that he really cared anymore, but he only had one small duffle bag of clothes.

And another two bags for all his game stuff. But that really counted as electronics.

He secured his car, the one thing that hadn't let him down yet, and stalked back up the stairs to the apartment.

He headed to the small kitchen and sat roughly at the table after he'd grabbed a sheet of paper and pen. And then he wrote. And when he was finished he left it to sit innocently on the counter along with his apartment key, the twin to Mello's own, that he wouldn't be needing anymore.

Matt didn't dare take one last look at the apartment in fear that he may just stay even though he knew it would kill him. He walked out the door with a whispered 'I love you' and closed the door behind him.

'_Dear Mello._

_I hope you find this letter........._'

_**-End Part One-**_

**AN**: So............. what does everyone think? The second part is shorter, and i'm sure you can guess what it will be........ maybe...... :)

Review???


	2. Part 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note or music from Hoobastank

**AN:** LISTEN TO (The Letter by Hoobatank) FOR THIS PLEASE! I wrote this short two shot based on the song, and if you listen to the song you will easily see that. And its a great song. :)

And don't yell at me, I did tell you this would be short.

**Suggested Listening**: The Letter **by** Hoobastank

**The Letter**

_~Part Two~_

He turned the ignition off and pulled the helmet from his head, shaggy hair falling back into place as he shook it. He felt much more relaxed now. And despite that he was glad to be home, he had missed his best friend.

He trudged up the steps and waited only a moment for the door to open as he turned the key and was only mildly surprised not to see Matt seated on the ratty couch with a game in hand. But he didn't think much on it as he moved into the kitchen to drop his jacket onto a chair and kick his boots off into a corner.

It was then that a piece of paper fell from the counter and fluttered to the floor. With a raised eyebrow he picked it up and noted Matt's key on the counter where the paper had been.

Had Matt gone out for something and forgotten his key, Mello thought.

"Fucking idiot." he muttered. Maybe he should keep the door locked and let Matt spend some time out there for forgetting his key again; it wasn't the first time that had happened. All thoughts scattered as he glanced at the paper.

_'Dear Mello._

_I hope you find this letter. _

_These will be the last words that I'll say.....'_

He stared confusedly at the lines on the paper, smudged with water marks and cross outs. What the hell was going on? He took the letter with him into the bedroom to make sure Matt wasn't in there somewhere playing a joke on him, though he had thought those days were long over; he smiled fondly at the memory of a small redhead struggling to set up a bucket over Roger's door...

And then he saw the blue paper of _that letter_ on their perfectly made bed. It sat stark against the black cover the bedspread. His heart thudded fast in his chest as his eyes returned to the paper.

_'-so memorize it line for line....'_

He looked up and noted how clean the bedroom was; nothing was out of place or on the floor. He moved into the bathroom which was the same and into the living room. The place was no longer cluttered with Matt's technical things. Or his games.

Or _any _of his things.

_'-it's too late, to try to work it out. There's no way to turn this thing around-'_

Matt was gone.

Mello took a deep breath and closed his eyes; he had never meant for Matt to find out. It had simply been someone he'd found to take his aggression out on, so that he didn't take it out on Matt. But the idiot thought there was something more between them and sent him things.

His fist crushed the letter in his hand and he forced himself to stay calm, a calm that he did not feel. He hoped that wherever the redhead was, he would be happier than with him. All he ever did was hurt him no matter how much love he felt for the younger boy.

He bowed his head and couldn't look at the empty apartment any more.

I hope you're happy, he thought; because he couldn't even hope to whisper something with the lump that sat in his throat. He never should have kept that stupid letter....

_'-because I wont be there to say goodbye.'_

_**-End Part Two-**_

_**~Finish~**_

**AN**: So this was all nice and emo right? Wow.... I cant seem to write something nice with them can I? But you all love it anyway, right?

Thank you so much to everyone that reviewed!!!!!!!!!

Tell me how much you love it**, REVIEW???**


	3. Final

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Death Note *yawn*

**AN:** So..... ok.... it was gnawing at my brain for the last few days, so I wrote it. I know many of you hadn't like the way I left it off at the end.... and originally I was going to make this as a sequel or whatever but I figured most wouldn't look through the other stuff to find it. (if I'm not making any sense it because I'm so DEAD after playing my new Wii DDR.)

**Suggested Listening:** Need You Now **by** Lady Antebellum**;** Forever and Always (piano version) **by** Taylor Swift**;** Disarm Me [With Your Loneliness] **by** Him**;** Broken Strings **by** James Morrison ft. Nelly Furtado

_**~Need You Now~**_

Labels were strewn about the floor, multi colored in their presentation, so that the color of the carpet was almost unknown. He wished the labels would find their way into the trash so he wouldn't have to look at them.

He closed his eyes instead and brushed his fingers across the smooth surface of his phone. His heart ached and he tossed it away. It landed somewhere in a pile of empty cigarette packs and wrappers.

The place was a mess and he knew he should at least pick up the things on the floor. But for the moment he was simply content to sit there, leaned up against the wall. He rubbed at his face and winced at the sensitivity of his eyes.

Lack of sleep could do that.

Well lack of_ actual _sleep, passing out didn't count.

He was pathetic. He knew it, but couldn't do anything about it.

The soft music that splayed through his speakers, soft in only the volume, flipped to something he didn't recognize. Something with piano and a depressing melody. Just perfect. He heaved a sigh and stood up, stumbling slightly, and crossed the room to the laptop.

He didn't want to listen to music anymore.

Frustrated with himself, even in his half-drunk half-hangover state, he left for the kitchen and fumbled with a trash bag. He hated cleaning. He hated hating cleaning. He hated Mello.

He smiled bitterly at the thought.

Everything always came back to the blonde. He wished he could honestly say he was better off without him. But that would have been the biggest lie he'd ever told. Most of all, he hated himself for letting this mess with his head.

Four months without the leather clad blonde.

Four months with enough booze and cigarettes to knock years off his life.

Four fucking months alone and he was a wreck.

He angrily shoved bottles and wrappers into the trash bag and didn't let up until the floor was clean. With a sigh he tied a knot in the bag and tossed it into a corner. He'd get it later when he found out what time of day it was.

What _day_ it was.

Fuck he missed Mello.

He slumped wearily onto the couch and winced as it jarred his head and made the dwindling headache come back full force. He could fix that, he thought drearily, and picked up a half-gone bottle of something-or-other and took a swig. It burned on its way down and Matt couldn't help but let his gaze linger on the lone item lying on the floor.

His cell phone.

Which he had kept charged but hadn't turned on, or even put the battery in, since he'd left. Mello would have been able to trace him. He could have gotten another phone, or removed the chip... but... it seemed too permanent.

He hated himself for his weakness.

For his blindness.

He should have seen that not everything was alright with them. But he'd been too content to notice. For a genius he was a fucking idiot. Just like Mello.

He wondered if Mello had tried to call at all...

He took another swig of liquid and retrieved the battery to his phone and replaced it. His fingers curled around it tightly as the power turned on but he clenched his teeth at the wallpaper.

He closed the lid and left it on the table.

He needed to do something... he couldn't stay like this. It just wasn't worth it. He settled with lighting up a cigarette for the moment.

His phone rang suddenly and it startled him. Only Mello knew his number. Numbly, he picked up the phone.

"Matt I-"

He shuddered a little at the blonde's voice. He sounded defeated, and so tired. God how he had missed his voice...

Mello might have said he missed him, or that he needed him, or something like that. But Matt wasn't listening to the words. He sighed. He didn't want that type of conversation on the phone.

He closed the lid and pocketed it. He ignored it the next time it rang. And if he stared at the door a little, there was no one there to notice. He stood there, leaned against the counter, cigarette in mouth and bottle in hand.

He flinched at the roar of a motorcycle as it road passed the apartment an hour later. He shook his head of those thoughts and stubbed the cigarette out on the counter while he left for the kitchen. At least until there was a knock on the door.

He didn't answer.

He did however go up to the door to see who it was. He didn't have to wait that long though. The knocks became impatient just as his hand reached for the heavy lock he'd installed after moving there.

"Matt, I know you're there." his hand froze at the familiar voice. He turned and rested against the door, letting the soft vibrations run through him. "Matt, open up damn it!" Mello growled, sounding frustrated, among other things.

He let his legs slide out from under him as Mello continued to pound on the door. He pulled his knees up to his chest and let his back touch the wood. He had known... really he had known Mello would find him.

He had _let_ him.

The banging had stopped and there was a slight sliding sound before it was quiet. "I'm sorry." Mello said softly from the other side of the door and Matt clenched his eyes tightly. He could hear the pain in Mello's voice, a pain that he reflected in his silence. He lifted the bottle back to his lips but stopped just before the liquid touched his tongue.

His hands shook and he let the bottle drop to the floor. The amber colored liquid sloshed from the opening as it rolled across the carpet to stop only when it ran into the couch leg. He didn't want to forgive him. He didn't. And he wouldn't.

But he couldn't live without him.

He let his head hit the door softly. "Matt-"

"Shut up." he whispered. And Mello went silent. He wanted to scream that he hated him. That he should never come back. That he-

"I love you..." he heard Mello say quietly.

-but he wouldn't. _Couldn't_. Not when he felt as though a piece of himself had been ripped away those past months. He was furious with Mello. Hated what he had done. But he couldn't stop loving him.

"I can't forgive you." he said rather than 'won't'.

"I know." Mello said dejectedly. Matt imagined he was seated much like himself, on the other side of the door. His heart fluttered at the thought of seeing him... damn he was pathetic...

And he knew that there had truly never been any other outcome to the situation. He couldn't help the resentment he felt...

He stood quietly and unlocked the door. The second he opened the door he was pulled close to the blonde. He smelled of blood, leather and chocolate. And tears.

"I have a rage that scares even me, I didn't want to take it out on you. I'm sorry I hurt you, so fucking sorry-" but Matt had stopped listening after that. There were things he didn't understand about the blonde, and things he supposed he never would, but this, at that moment, would have to be enough.

He heard Mello's promise not to do it again.

Heard his promise to leave Kira behind and just be with him.

His promise to-

*

Mello hadn't kept any of his promises.

Matt hadn't expected him too.

They died on January 26th.

Together.

**~Need You Now~**

**AN**_**: **_K..... I bet you wish I had just stuck with the first two chapters? Be careful what you wish for? I blame the playlist I wrote this to........ (which consisted of the Suggested Listening songs. heh)

l


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